Our Moments
by Ponderess
Summary: A collection of fluffy and short Phanfics that are loosely tied together. (Not necessarily in chronological order.) - #6: Phil finds Dan at the end of another all night shift to get his new video done. (Try to summarise that without giving too much away... ) - /Irregularly updated (sorry), but no complicated plot or cliffhangers. Mostly cuddles and a bit of suggestive talking./
1. A Saturday Night

_This started off as a Oneshot for a friend on Twitter, but since I enjoy writing it, there'll probably more fluffy snippets from their life.  
Updates will be irregularly, whenever I have the inspiration to write another one. There'll be no chronology and no bigger plot to it, just random scenes._

_**Disclaimer:** Blah blah, work of fiction, blah blah, I make no money with this, blah blah, for your entertainment._

* * *

**A Saturday Night**

'Looks like fun,' I hear Phil's voice in my ear.

I chuckle at the computer screen where yet another animal mating video is playing.

'Yeah, this is how I want to spend the rest of my life,' I reply jokingly. For the whole afternoon – so pretty much the whole time since I got up – I browsed YouTube for videos with animal mating calls we can include into our radio show tomorrow.

Phil remains silent while the video plays out, but I can clearly feel his presence hovering over me, his warm breath brushing my left ear softly. I try not to show it, but after nearly four years having him so close still thrills me. Maybe it's because we have separate bedrooms and only occasionally sneak under each other's covers like somebody could watch us when in fact we are completely to ourselves.

'How long do you think it'll take you?' Phil asks as I click on a related video with some turtles.

'Don't know,' I mumble. 'I haven't watched all the videos yet and still have to decide on the best ones and rip the sound, so I'm guessing another two hours at least.'

A sigh of disappointment. 'My live show is in an hour.'

I check the time. It's 5:06 pm.

'So? Does it bother you if I'm still working while you do your live show?'

'No, I just thought we could spend some time together, you know…'

That is rare. We spend a lot of time together, but Phil actually asking for it means that it's not just to sit down and have a chat. Usually we just spontaneously end up snuggling, so for a moment I wonder if something is up.

'We can spend time afterwards,' I offer casually. '7 pm is hardly sleeping time.'

'Too long,' Phil moans. I replay the video on the computer because I was too distracted the first time and I need an excuse for my silence.

'You know what?' he continues.

'Mh?' I grunt between the sounds of the turtles that are supposed to be getting it on.

'I will do the live show now.'

He can't see me frowning, but my voice displays my scepticism. 'How does that change anything?'

'Then I can cook us dinner afterwards until you're done here.'

'I said two hours at least,' I remind him. 'If you do your live show now and then make dinner you'll be done thrice with cooking until I'm done with this.'

Phil considers my words for a moment.

'True,' he eventually says. 'But what do I do for the next hour?'

'You'll think of something,' I reply casually. And he does.

His lips are suddenly pressing against my skin, right behind my left ear. A shiver goes down my spine. He has hit a spot where I'm not entirely crept out as it happens when people touch my neck. But of course he knows that. After nearly four years into our relationship he knows exactly how to handle me. Sometimes he will grab me tight and caress my neck until I nearly lose my mind.

'Tease', I moan as I lean my head against his chest.

'You're one to talk,' he murmurs into my hair while he lets his hands slide over my shoulders and down my chest. I close my eyes to fully enjoy the moment, but the intimacy ends as suddenly as it started.

'We'll keep the best for later,' Phil says, taking a few steps aside, so I now can watch him handling his phone out of the corner of my eye. 'I'm tweeting that I'll be live in an hour, as usual.'

'Sure,' I say as if it doesn't bother me that he's leaving me hanging now. But he knows me too well to miss the disappointment in my tone. He grins and leans in to kiss me.

'Don't worry, we'll make it a good night,' he says before softly pressing his lips against mine. I instantly grab his face and pull him into a passionate kiss. That's another rare thing in our relationship – especially since our weekly radio show that premiered this month was announced last November. I feel constantly watched and refuse any display of affection in public. Phil wouldn't mind it. He also doesn't mind people speculating whether we are dating or not, but I can't help being more and more bothered by that. It's not the Phanfictions – those are quite amusing most of the time – I just don't want my private life to be anyone's business but my own and the people who are actually part of it.

Phil advised me to ignore it, but I just can't – especially when my subscriber count keeps going up and a greater amount of them consists of Fangirls that want to know what I'm looking for in a girl. When right now all I'm looking for in a girl – if I'm even looking at all – is a friend, because I have my man right here, thank you very much!

But I don't say that of course.

Phil breaks out of the kiss and frees his face from my grip.

'You've got work to do. After all you need to be done with it in two hours.'

His thumb strokes over my bottom lip before he leaves my side.

Reluctantly I turn back to the mating animals on YouTube. I should be motivated to actually get this done until Phil finishes his live show, but the thought of him sitting on the sofa now seems very distracting.

'I really want to use the zebras,' I say, going through a few open tabs with videos I've taken into closer consideration.

'Don't,' Phil says simply. 'You tweeted about them.'

'You're right,' I agree and grin to myself. He wouldn't admit it, but I know he has turned on mobile notifications for my tweets.

* * *

I check the audio files one last time. All of them are neatly stored on a portable flash drive and working.

'Done!' I call out.

'Good,' I hear Phil's voice from the kitchen. 'Dinner's almost ready.'

'Okay.' I wait for the computer to shut down and then take the screen, keyboard and the mouse from the table. For six months we're discussing to find another place for our Mac, but we cannot be bothered to actually decide on a solution. So every time we're having dinner – by that I mean actual dinner we cannot just eat on the sofa – we have to make room on the table.

I shuffle into the kitchen where Phil is finishing off the vegetables.

'So, what's the occasion?' I want to know, taking out two plates of the cupboard.

'Does there have to be an occasion for us to spend some time together?' He smiles at me and I shrug, before grabbing forks and knives for two of us and taking them to the launch. He follows shortly afterwards with the filled plates.

'Enjoy,' he says as soon as we're seated and we begin eating.

'You know the Mac?' Phil asks after a moment.

'Yeah, we really should find a proper place for it,' I reply, guessing what's on his mind.

'We should put it in the spare room like we thought last week. People on the live show agreed.'

I mumble my approval. I can't believe we're having this conversation now. Somehow I expected a less casual conversation, but it's not like I'm very helpful either. And I wonder about myself. Usually I'm very comfortable with Phil, things come naturally. Why do I feel so alien in this situation now? You'd think we were on our first date together, still testing our feelings for each other and not that we've been in a relationship for over three years.

'What's up?' Phil seems to sense that something's off.

'Don't know,' I say. 'Maybe I spent too much time listening to animal mating calls.' It's a vague guess, but not exactly a lie. I can't pinpoint it myself right now.

'Maybe it's time for some other mating calls.'

I spit out my food as I burst out laughing. Phil seems equally surprised of himself. He chuckles along embarrassedly.

'Phil!' I finally manage. 'You did not just say that?!'

He pulls his sulky face as always when I jokingly criticise him.

'I think you should leave the suggestive comments to me,' I propose. He is still sulking jokingly.

'It wasn't that bad, was it?' he replies. 'You sure would've gotten away with it.'

I chuckle. He is adorable how he pulls his mouth to the right in his typical manner. I could spend hours with that mouth – observing it, caressing it.

'I guess I would have,' I admit. 'That's the benefit of being me.'

We grin and focus on our plates again. I wonder if I should take over the dish washing tonight. It's not that we have a real system to it, but after all Phil did all the cooking alone today.

'Are we going through phases?' Phil suddenly asks.

I pause for a moment with the fork in my mouth and look at him. Then I slowly take it out and shrug.

'I guess.' Staring at my plate I shovel around the last bits of food in it.

'I just feel like you've become more distant over time,' he tries again.

I sigh. So this is what it's all about.

Without another word I finish up my plate and take it to the kitchen where I put it into the sink. I've washed my hands and am drying them off by the time Phil joins me.

As soon as he has put down his plate I push him against the fridge door and lean my forehead against his.

'If you think, just because I don't want people to pry on our relationship, I don't love you as much as I used to, then you're an idiot, Philip Lester.' My voice is harsher than I had intended, but he understands. His hands have grabbed my hips to steady me. I didn't realise I'm shaking.

'I don't care if people write fanfiction about us, but these moments – these actual moments – is it wrong I want them to be just between the two of us and for nobody else to see?'

'No.' he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in. I close my eyes and wallow in his scent.

'And you're scared of people judging you and of disappointing thousands of fangirls by not only telling them that you're taken, but also that you're dating a guy.'

I never actually said that, but it's true. Once again I am amazed how well he knows me – and also a little scared. I've always found it hard to let people in. It makes me feel exposed, vulnerable. But it's Phil, he would never hurt me.

We linger in this embrace, pressed against the refrigerator.

'I just miss you,' he whispers. 'I miss having you close.'

I wrap my arms around his neck and caress his ear with my lips.

'I wanted to take care of the dishes, but it seems I have to take care of you first.' A sly grin is now on my lips.

'You better do,' he replies before pressing his lips on mine and pushing me backwards. Suddenly I find myself backed against the open glass door of our kitchen as I respond to Phil's passionate invasion of my mouth. Gosh, how I missed this!

My hands are halfway under his shirt, when I suddenly stop.

'Did you hear that?' I ask.

Since I stopped kissing him, he lets his lips wander over my jar line, ignoring my question.

'Is that the mouse?' I try making out the noise again that startled me.

'Steve?' Phil pauses for a moment. 'Forget it!' he tells me and resumes caressing my cheek. But I still listen out for it.

'There!' I whisper as I hear the rustling again.

His lips come ever closer to my neck as he tries to regain my attention, but I already have my hands against his chest to hold him off. I'm sure I heard another squeak. And there's a rustling noise again.

'In the launch!' I exclaim and run off like an idiot.

'Da-an! It won't eat your nipples,' Phil calls after me, but I won't listen.

I nearly slide into the living room on my socks and come to a halt one third into the room. I listen again and look around the room to try and make something out. I don't know what I'm trying to achieve here, Steve has probably taken flight by now. I should've sneaked into the room and not burst in like I was scaring of a lion or something.

'Sometimes I wonder if you're doing this on purpose.' Phil leans in the doorway, arms crossed before his chest, and watches me as I look around frantically.

'What is it with you and this mouse?' He sounds hurt.

'It's just… I wish it had picked another home. I don't intend on opening a mouse hotel here.' I give up. If Steve ever was here, it probably is long gone due to the noise me and Phil make.

My gaze falls on Phil, still leaning on the doorframe. He's watching me with a glint of displeasure in his eyes.

'Hey,' I say, as I realise I just left him standing for a mouse – what a big jerk I am – and walk towards him. My hands cup his face and I softly kiss him.

'I'm sorry.' I place more kisses on his mouth until his lips begin to participate and his resolve starts to fade.

'What should I do with you?' he sighs between two kisses.

I grin. 'I'm a nutcase, I know.'

He snorts and pulls my hips closer. 'Maybe you need a session on the couch,' he suggests, barely separating his lips from mine.

'I wouldn't mind that,' I breathe heavily. Intensifying the kiss I let my fingers wander up his neck and into his hair. As Phil stems himself from the doorframe I comply easily and let him steer me backwards to the couch. We drop onto it and land uncomfortably entangled, one of his hands buried beneath my back and our legs sticking out over the arm rest.

Once again the romantic mood is gone as we break out in laughter.

'Would you mind…?' Phil asks, trying to free his hand from underneath me. I prop myself up on my elbows, so he can get it out. Then I try to scramble backwards without kneeing him – which is not that easy as his legs are still crossing mine. With some effort I manoeuvre myself fully onto the couch and collapse on my back panting from laughing and the physical exorcise. I really should see my personal trainer more often…

Phil's attempts to squeeze himself sideways between me and the back rest are equally clumsy and make me chuckle.

'Oops,' he says as he nearly rams his knee into my side.

'Watch out!' I complain jokingly. But he finally has found a position he seems to be comfortably in. Propped up onto his elbow he is looking down on me.

'You're so beautiful when you smile,' he says softly.

'You think?' I ask after a moment of looking at him. I'm not good at taking compliments. My first reaction is to brush them off, because I can't really see how people would say them about me.

'About 95% of your subscribers would agree. What am I saying? Probably 99!' is his reply.

I press my lips together as he mentions my subscribers. Tonight I'm not in the mood to think about them – and especially not about how many of them might fancy me.

Phil draws the right conclusion: 'Okay, maybe I should've left your subscribers out of this.'

In response I turn over onto my right side to face him properly. He lowers himself down, so our noses almost touch and we can feel each other's breath on our skin. My eyes scan his face, explore his features to the full extend. With my fingers I trail over his forehead and hair.

'I'm so glad I have you,' I whisper.

He gives a smile. 'I'm so glad you found me all these years ago.'

As he leans in to kiss me, I decide that I will let nothing disturb us tonight. And if Steve has another singing-orgy because it things it's Mariah Carrie, I don't care. It can bite someone else's nipples.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed._

_Why don't you leave me some thoughts on my writing in the comments, as that would help me improve._

_(Is it just me, or does that sound like I've watched too many YouTube videos?)_

_- Sue_


	2. Spooning

_No way, an update omg!_

_It did not quite turn out as I had intended, but never mind.  
Also, I'll probably go down in history as one of the worst writers when it comes to title. (Help?)_

_Thanks for the comments on the last one. I appreciate it._

_And here comes another, shorter fluffy Phan moment for you._

* * *

**Spooning**

'Phil?'

'Mh,' the answer comes muffled from behind me.

'I can't sleep like this,' I complain.

'Mhhh,' is all I get to hear. He's probably half asleep already.

I sigh and try to readjust my position, but he has gripped me so tightly I can barely move. Everything seems uncomfortable: the pillow, the matrass, even the duvet is bothering me. You wouldn't think we are lying in my bed. And damn, Phil has a strong clutch.

Blindly I stare into the darkness of my room, while I can feel his chest rise and fall against his back as his breath goes calmly. I try adjusting my breathing to his, but I just can't relax. Somehow I need to reposition myself.

Carefully I try to wriggle myself out of his arms, but they won't loosen up an inch. So I try harder, nearly elbowing him in his side, yet it's no use. He has pressed me tight against his chest like a little child holds their teddy bear.

I feel bad for disturbing him, but I will never come to rest like this and I see no other option.

'Phil,' I whine loader than the first time. 'I really can't sleep like this.' I struggle a bit more, as he's still not reacting. And I actually manage to wiggle myself a few inches up towards the top end of the bed, but now my neck is on the same level as his mouth. I shiver unpleasantly as his calm, warm breath brushes over my skin. That's nearly as creepy as someone actually touching my neck and I shiver unpleasantly. There's a good reason why I prefer to be the big spoon.

I press my lips together to keep my composure. I don't want to be harsh, but this is getting unbearable and Phil has drifted off so far, he'll need a shake to wake up again.

'Phil!' With my right hand – as my left arm is buried beneath my body – I lash out blindly and hit his upper leg.

'What?' he moans sleepily.

'Can we swap?'

'You wake me, just because you want to change positions?' He doesn't sound happy.

'You know I can't sleep like that,' I remind him.

There's no answer. He has slightly shifted his head, so he no longer breathes onto my neck, but it's still uncomfortable.

'Phil, please,' I beg.

There's silence again, so I first assume he's gone back to sleep.

'No,' he then mumbles.

'What?' I ask confused. 'Why not?'

'Because I don't trust you.' Phil's answer comes quicker this time, but he still seems to refuse to actually wake up.

'You don't trust me?!' I repeat, slightly offended. 'You don't trust me with what?'

'Staying in bed.'

My mouth gapes open in disbelief at this short statement. He can't see that, but he interprets my silence correctly and gives me some more information.

'I had to pry the laptop from your hands and tuck you in forcefully.' Well, that is a bit of an exaggeration. But it's true he had a hard time getting me to bed tonight.

In fact I have developed a habit to go to bed in the early morning hours. And even though Phil often stays up until after midnight as well, our sleeping schedules don't quite match and he's already fast asleep until I even think of going to bed. So we end up sleeping in our own beds and snuggling is rare.

Tonight however he had decided we should go to sleep at the same time and he was willing enough to actually turn off my laptop for me as I was still on Tumblr. I wasn't really mad, but I kept complaining about it until we lay in my bed and he told me to shut up. And since then I was trying to fall asleep in his arms, but it didn't work.

'I won't sneak out of bed, I promise,' I offer as I'm getting really desperate here.

Another silence follows. Then the cushions rustle as he lifts his head.

'You promise?' he asks awake now. His tone reminds me of a child who takes these things really seriously. This promise better not be broken, or he'll never forgive me. Oh Phil, how dearly I love him!

'I promise,' I whisper softly and I mean it.

He rubs his chin against my shoulder, but slowly loosens his grip. As his hands let go of my chest, we turn simultaneously around. I loosely lay my left arm – which is slightly numb – around him and rest my chin against his neck.

'Much better,' I mumble and snuggle closer against him. Phil chuckles slightly.

'Sometimes you're really hard to handle,' he says jokingly.

'Shut up and sleep!' I reply almost a bit too serious, but he laughs again.

'I _did_ sleep, until you woke me,' he reminds me.

I just pull him closer against my chest and let my lips brush the rim of his ear.

'I'll get back to you for this,' I threaten jokingly.

He grabs my hand that rests on his stomach and says with a smile in his voice: 'I know you will.'

* * *

_Mhh, I might have a slight obsession with Dan's neck and his reaction to people touching it. It will probably be in every chapter in some way and I'm not even sorry._

_So, how did you like it? Have any suggestions what situation I could explore next? (No, no sex, because I can't pull that off.) Comments would be very welcome. _

_- Sue_


	3. Cereal

_Hello my friends, did you expect me back so soon? I seriously didn't. But don't get used to it. I'm not very reliable, sorry._

_Thank you all for the reviews. I feel extremly flattered and also a bit creepy if it really "sounds like it would actually happen".  
I think I mentioned before that there will be no complicated plot, so I don't think there'll appear an ex-girlfriend somewhere. I'm not even sure if ever anyone apart from Dan and Phil will appear. I kinda like writing the scenes with just those two._

_This inspired by Rocketship Raven, as the (boring) chapter title might reveal.  
There's actually an alternate title, but seriously "Milky Adventures" sounds really, really wrong. (Don't judge me, it's way past midnight.)_

_Okay, enough talking. Here it goes._

* * *

**Cereal**

The door falls shut behind me. Maybe a bit too loud, I think while I peel my feet out of my shoes without putting the groceries out of hand, but it's too late now anyway. The bang probably disturbed the whole house.

As if to confirm that I was a bit too careless, Phil appears in the hall and eyes me concerned.

'Hey,' he greets me carefully.

'Hey,' I mumble in reply and try – my grocery bag still in hand – to get into my slippers. Just as I think I have to use my hands, I manage to slip into them. But next thing is getting out of my jacket and for that I will need my hands free.

'You got the milk?' Phil asks me.

My answer is a short 'Yup' as I press the grocery bag with two pints of milk into his arms and take off my jacket. He watches me throw it aside carelessly and pulling up my jogging pants.

'What happened?' he inquires, picking up on my short temper.

'This!' I pull at my pants once more to indicate what I mean. He gives me a quizzical look, so I elaborate. 'I thought I could go out in these – I mean everyone does it these days and no one seems to bother, right? But if I go out like that, I get weird looks.' I sound more hurt than I wanted to.

'I think you look fine,' Phil states bluntly.

'I look like a tramp!' Even though I'm not convinced, his words still make me feel a little better.

'A really hot tramp though,' he says with a grin.

'Oh shut up, you!' Though I try not to, I can't help grinning. To hide it, I snap the grocery bag from his hands and carry it down the hall. He's probably seen my grin anyway.

In the kitchen I unpack the two pints of milk and put one into the refrigerator. I leave the other on the counter and place two bowls from the cupboard next to it. Finally we can have our cereal.

Suddenly Phil is behind me and wraps his arms around my hips. His breast leans against my back as he rests his chin on my shoulder. I stem my arms on the counter and sigh.

'I don't like to see you upset,' he mumbles into my ear.

'I'm not upset.' At least I'm trying to convince myself I'm not, but he knows me better.

'Yes, you are.'

I let my head drop forward and take a deep breath. He takes the opportunity to let his lips trace over the bare skin beneath my neck.

'Phil, not now.' My words stop him from inching upwards. Instead his lips trace sideward along the collar of my shirt.

'You worry too much what people think of you,' he mumbles.

'Big news!' I don't want to be so harsh to him, but he's hit a weak spot.

However Phil knows my habits and isn't offended. With a swift movement he turns he around and cups my face in his hands. Automatically, my eyes shift to the ground. I don't feel like facing him right now. But that does not dishearten him.

'Dan? – Hey- hey?!' His voice is soft as he drags out the last word and I can no longer refuse. Reluctantly I meet his eyes, just as he wanted me to. He responds with a smile.

'Now listen,' he says, holding my gaze. 'That's nothing to ruin our day.' And before I can protest he kisses me. I'm not yet entirely convinced, but then he mumbles, 'I think you look hot whatever you're wearing,' and I can't hold back a chuckle. Of course he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth.

I play along, wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. The weird looks from strangers on my way to the grocery store down the road from earlier are already forgotten. Phil has that effect on me. Somehow he always manages to kiss my troubles away. It's been like that from the start.

First it was his videos. Then, when he eventually noticed me and we became friends, it was his messages and the Skype calls with him. Our meetings were my absolute highlights back then. And when I went to university in Manchester and eventually moved in with him, it was all these little moments. By then Phil had developed something like a sixth sense for me and my moods. He can pull me through anything.

I rest my forehead against his and enjoy his presence.

'Feeling better,' Phil asks after a while and I nod. There's a smile on my lips. His right hand ruffles through my hair.

'Well, let's have breakfast then. It's about time, too,' he says.

And without another warning he breaks the intimate contact and shoves me aside, so he can prepare the cereal in the bowls I got out of the cupboard.

'Hey!' I complain jokingly and lightly push him. However, he resists quite easily and picks up one of the boxes from the counter to fill its content into our bowls. We had already gotten them out of the cupboard when we realised we were out of milk.

As he reaches for the second cereal box, he asks: 'Do you want to mix?'

'Noooo,' is my instant reply.

'You sure?' He lets the box hover over the left bowl, ready to spill the contents.

'Give me that!' I grab it before he can ruin my cereal. Then I reach over and take the pint of milk to finish off my breakfast preparations. Phil chuckles while mixing his own portion.

As he tries to take the milk from me however, I decide to tease him a little and hold it out of his reach.

'Dan!' he complains, trying to reach around me and get hold of the pint. But I hold it further away, arm outstretched behind my back.

'Careful,' Phil tries, as I sway around to avoid his reaching hands. 'There's no lid on it, you're going to spill it.'

'No, I'm not,' I laugh. 'It's not even full anymore.'

'Come on, give it to me.' He holds out his arm for me to hand it to him. The gesture displays resignation. He was never really the fighter. And I have a tendency to push him to the limit. I know it's not really fair, but I can't help it. I'm a bad person sometimes. So I continue to deny him the milk.

He makes a sudden leap for it and I – surprised by his action – stumble backwards and nearly drop the pint. I manage to hold it, but the laws of physics are against me none the less: The wild movement of my arm sends milk spilling over my hand and on the floor.

'Damn!' I curse, jumping backwards to avoid the fluid hitting my feet, but it's not enough to avoid it sprinkling my slippers.

Phil laughs at my baffled face. 'See, I told you!'

I look at the puddle of milk on the floor and then up at him. 'Not funny,' I whine, but he still chuckles. My face must indeed look comical as I still am in disbelief at what just happened.

'Give me that, before you actually drop it.' Carefully he takes the pint from my hand and places it safely on the counter.

My hand is dripping from milk, so I reach for the towel next to the sink.

'Dan, not the- towel,' he tries to stop me from taking it, but it's too late.

'We can put it in the laundry,' I say, drying off my milky hand. Then I drop it to the ground where it starts soaking up the contents of the puddle.

Phil puts his hand over his eyes in resignation. 'You know we have a mop for that.'

'Like I'm getting that out now.' With my foot I shove around the towel in an effort to clean up all the mess.

'And you complain about me leaving the cupboard doors open…,' he comments and I give him a critical look.

'That's something entirely different,' I argue.

He just shakes his head, but the grin is back.

'No, really.' With a swift movement I send off the towel sliding towards the other side of the kitchen, out of my way. 'You love it when I make a mess of myself. Admit it!' My voice is teasing, but I'm actually quite serious.

His head cocked to the side he looks at me. 'I shouldn't be surprised you're getting out the dirty talk after having spattered yourself in white fluid,' he says with a straight face.

I stare back seriously, but then it bursts out of me and I snort.

'You're getting better at this,' I exclaim after the first wave of laughter.

He just shrugs, but the smile on his lips looks pleased. My giggling fits get weaker. The facial expression he has right now makes me just want to kiss him.

And I do. With a sudden rush I leap forward and press my lips on his.

Taken aback from the impact, he sways a little. Then, after getting over the first surprise, he easily wraps his arms around my waist and complies in the kiss.

I enjoy his taste and am just about to enter his mouth with my tongue, when Phil pulls back.

'We still haven't eaten,' he says apologetically.

I pout. 'Are you that hungry?'

'Yes,' he states reluctantly, and then, 'Also, I perform better when I'm fed.'

Grinning, I shake my head at him. I've really spoiled him over the years.

As he fills his bowl with milk, he says: 'It's not like I wouldn't have you right here…'

My eyebrows rise up in amused surprise, but he is busy to put the lid on the pint and doesn't see my reaction.

'Eat your cereal and then we'll see what you can do,' I say, before fetching a spoon and carrying my bowl to the lounge. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the grin on his face as I'm leaving the kitchen.

* * *

_This actually resulted from Dan saying he went out in his jogging pants to buy milk and people were staring at him. I thought it was in a live show two or three weeks ago, but people said it was on the radio show. (I started to think that it might have been both, but never mind.)_

_Reviews and suggestions are very welcome as always. I can't promise I will actually come up with something, but I'll definitely try to work with what you come up with. (Apparently one word can be enough to get my mind going..^^)_

_See you next time. (Whenever that is. I really can't say. But since I enjoy writing these one shots it might be quite soon..)_

_- Sue_


	4. In these Walls

_What? An update? So soon?_  
_Don't complain, I'm on a roll, but I don't know how long that'll last so enjoy it while it's happening._

_This time I thought I'd go a bit further back than with the other ones so far which are bascially set during the last three months or so._

_Also I renamed the story - as you may have noticed. I thought 'Our Moments' was quite fitting for now._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy._

* * *

**In these Walls**

The front door falls shut. Phil just waved off the last of our friends who helped us carry in our boxes. The workers from the moving company that we mainly hired for the transport of my piano had left earlier. Now it was only Phil and me and our stuff stored away in various boxes in our brand new flat in London.

I hear Phil sigh in the hallway as I test the floorboards of the lounge with my feet. The silence that now engulfs the rooms – our new rooms – after all the people have left is very welcome to me. I stray around the place and take it all actually in for the very first time.

This is it now: the place where we will play video games or watch TV or just cuddle up together on the couch – for the next couple of months at least. There's a fireplace in the room we can light up with gas. None of us actually said it, but I bet we both imagined a cold winter evening huddled up together next to the fire. I smile at the thought of it. All of the new, beautiful memories we can create, here, in these walls.

I can hear the shuffling of Phil's feet as he makes his way through the hall. Just like me he probably took a moment in silence to recover from all the turmoil and fully arrive in our new home.

As he enters the lounge I turn around and meet him with a grin. He looks tired – not very surprising. From what I gather he didn't catch much sleep last night. Our relocation kept him up. Even though we went to sleep together I woke up to an empty bed this morning. He had kept tossing and turning around and eventually sneaked into his own bed as not to disturb my sleep, so he explained over a hurried breakfast this morning.

I know Phil is just as excited as me to finally move to London, but it was his first relocation over such a great distance. Until the end he worried that something would go wrong with the transport. It was really adorable in a way.

Now that everything went well he smiles at me through tired eyes. 'So, here we are.'

'Here we are,' I repeat beaming at him.

For a moment we just look at each other, then he breaks out in a grin as well and I can no longer hold back. I walk over and wrap my arms around him as I press my lips onto his. He gives in easily and lets his hands trail over my back. I pull his hips closer as I intrude his mouth with my tongue. We play around a little until he pulls away and places a little kiss on my cheek.

I let go of his hips and sling my arms around his neck instead. His breath brushes over my ear while we linger in this embrace. I nestle my head against his and take in his smell. Soon this scent will fill this flat – our flat.

'So,' Phil says after a moment or two, untangling himself from me. 'We have a fireplace.' His hand brushes mine as he passes me to walk over to the fireside on the wall. I turn around to follow him with my gaze and watch as he bows down to properly inspect it.

'Too bad it's summer…' His voice trails off, but I grin, because I know exactly what he's thinking.

'I know, that would make for a nice romantic evening,' I say, randomly opening one of the boxes near me. It contains kitchen supplies. Why did we leave it here in the lounge? Oh right, we didn't label the boxes, so everything's most likely a bit messed up. One of our consoles will probably wait to be unpacked in mine or Phil's bedroom.

'Winter will come soon enough,' Phil interrupts my thoughts and I turn to see him move away from the fireplace.

'Yeah.' My finger digs into the newspaper that is wrapped around one of our mugs while I watch him. He stands between some scattered boxes a few inches from the wall, facing me. We both seem a bit lost on what now. So I decide to spell the question out: 'What should we do first?'

'Order food?' he suggests. I like the idea. It was a long day and we didn't get around to eat that much. There's only one problem.

'Where? We don't even have a phone book yet.' He gives my question a thought.

'Then let's meet the neighbours,' says he and picks up the keys we left on one of the boxes earlier.

Confused I frown at him. 'Why?'

'So we can ask them to borrow their phone book.' Phil sounds as if it that was the obvious conclusion.

'Good thinking,' I offer, still baffled by his idea. It would've never crossed my mind and I have to smile at the way his brain works sometimes.

He's almost in the hallway, as I call him back.

'How do we introduce ourselves?' The questioning look on his face tells me I have to specify my thought. 'I mean- do we introduce ourselves as – you know – a couple?'

I feel like an idiot, standing in the middle of the room. The look he gives me doesn't make things better. I'm not sure if he eyes me sceptical, because I had some trouble referring to us as a couple, or if he finds my concerns in a whole ridiculous.

However, he smiles and walks over to me. Draping his arms loosely over my shoulders he looks at me reassuringly and says: 'We'll say that we just moved in here and everything else stays in these walls, because it's none of anyone's business. Okay?'

'Okay,' I mumble my consent. As I lean into him I tug my thumbs into the back pockets of his jeans. The thought of introducing myself to the neighbours still makes me a little nervous and I need physical reassurance first. Talking to strangers isn't exactly my favourite exercise.

Phil gives me a moment before gently shoving me backwards so he can look into my face again.

'Come on now,' he says with an encouraging smile and together we leave the flat.

* * *

One and a half hours later we lie backwards on the floorboards of the lounge, between our yet unpacked boxes and the leftovers of the Chinese food we ordered.

Phil pats his stomach and says: 'Now I'm really stuffed.'

'Me too. I ate like a pig,' I offer lazily.

Recognising the reference to _The Lion King_, he quotes: 'Pumba, you are a pig.'

'Oh,' I try to say, but it's nearly swallowed by a short laugh I can't hold back. Then we fall silent again. It's one of those moments where none of us needs to speak and we just quietly enjoy each other's company.

I crane my neck to get a look at him, but he lies diagonally to me a few inches away from the top of my head, which makes it really hard to get him into view. So I push myself up on my arms and rob over to him where I rest my head on his chest. I'm situated on my left side now and can look at his chin.

'What a long day,' he sighs, combing through my hair with his fingers.

'Mhh,' I agree sleepily.

'We yet have to prepare our beds.'

'Don't want to.' I yawn, squeezing my eyes shut.

'Well, at least one bed,' Phil continues, 'unless you want to sleep on the floor without pillows or a duvet.'

All I offer is an undefined mutter. He chuckles and ruffles my hair.

'Dan?' he says then and carefully pushes himself up on his arms. I merely roll over and get comfortable in another position, resting my head in his lap. Again he laughs softly and moves around a little, probably to sit up better. I'm so drowsy, it doesn't really bother me.

Carefully, his hand rubs over my belly.

'Come on, Dan,' he tries again, his voice soft with a demanding undertone. 'Help me prepare your bed and we both can go to sleep.' The end of his sentence nearly gets lost in a yawn. He's probably just as tired as me – or maybe even more – but I'm too comfortable to respond.

I can feel his fingers wandering to the hem of my t-shirt. Instantly my hand is over his, holding him back.

'Don't you dare tickle me,' I warn him, fully awake again.

'Get up and help me with the bed sheets then,' he demands softly.

I turn my head to blink at him lazily. Not impressed, he simply stares back. His hand is twitching beneath mine, ready to break free and sneak under my shirt. I'm not really willing to risk being tickled, so I give in eventually and sit up as well.

'Fine, let's do it then,' I moan as not to give the impression that Phil's won too easily. He laughs again and gets to his feet.

'Well, come on then, Sleeping Beauty, we have to prepare your resting place for the next 100 years,' he teases me.

If I had a pillow at hand, I'd throw it at him. But all of my pillows are still stored away in one of these unlabelled boxes. So I just pull a face at his back as I follow him into my new room.

I hope that it won't be long until I can sneak up under the covers next to him; however it takes us nearly an hour to be finally able to drop into bed. Exhausted I rest my head on Phi's chest while he has one arm wrapped loosely around my shoulders.

'What an eventful day,' he sighs and I mumble my agreement.

'Do you think you'll be able to sleep tonight?' I ask him then.

'I am so exhausted – I don't think anything can disturb me for the next 24 hours or so,' he mutters, barely awake.

'Fine by me,' is the last thing I manage before finally drifting off to sleep.

* * *

_I thought I had finished, but then I felt like adding a few more sentences, so the end might seem a bit rushed, idk._

_As always I am very thankful for your feedback and suggestions to help me keep this story going. Also, I started to personally reply to reviews. (Don't ask me why I didn't do it earlier. My mind has some weird ways sometimes..) So, what I'm trying to say here is: If you comment I will send you personalised virtual hugs and stuff - unless you don't have an account here, then that won't work. I still highly appreciate your reviews though._

_It's nearing 5 am now, so I better go, before I stop completely to make sense._

_Hope you liked it._

_- Sue_


	5. In his Arms

_I knew it would come to this chapter sooner or later, I've had the basic idea for it for a few days now. Actually I almost thought I'd type something like this for the last chapter, because it's a current topic for me. Didn't happen last time, but tonight I had the need to get some feelings out._

_I wasn't quite sure whether to include this here or rather publish it as a completely seperate story. But since it basically fits the conditions of this story collection, I decided to put it up here. It's a tad bit more serious and deeper than the other parts._

_I hope you still enjoy. I definitely feel better after getting this out._

* * *

**In his Arms**

Phil says my name. The sound of his voice is muffled by the door between us, but I can still hear him, hear a trace of worry in his tone, as he wonders what I'm up to.

I remain silent, motionless. I don't feel like talking right now. I don't want to raise my voice, make no sound at all. Curled up beneath the duvet, I have one of my pillows pressed against my breast. It helps a little against the hollowness that started to spread from my chest after I woke up this morning – or was it noon already? I'm not really sure. I didn't bother to check the time when I woke up.

It crept up slowly as I rose from my dreams – dreams I can't remember anymore. I didn't even notice it coming when I woke. Suddenly it was just there and I have no idea where it came from. But once it had emerged, fully nested itself beneath my ribcage, it refused to go away.

'Dan?' I hear Phil's voice again, louder this time and accompanied by a knock on my bedroom door. Though he sounds more concerned now, I can't muster the motivation to raise my voice and answer him.

I hug the pillow tighter and press my nose into it. Something inside me feels like crying, but I don't know what about. I don't have the accompanying thoughts to make me shed tears. My head is blank. Nothing's in there that could explain this feeling. No idea how to make it go away.

I'm not unfamiliar with this kind of situation though. Every once in a while I have these moods. It's a side-effect of my existential crisis that keeps emerging every couple of months since I dropped out of university.

It's a stage in between, when the question of what I'm actually doing with my life doesn't drive me insane yet – in fact it doesn't bother me much at all – but still deep down inside something is bugging me. And the worst thing is I can't put my finger on it. I can't tell what causes this feeling building up inside of me. I just know something is wrong and it's absolutely awful!

Wrapped up in thoughts over my crippling misery, I didn't even notice how Phil entered my room. I can just feel the matrass shift now as he sits down on the edge of my bed. Carefully, he starts stroking my arm, but I still don't react to his presence. I'm too paralysed by my own emotions, I feel like never moving ever again.

'Hey,' Phil drags out the word in a soft whisper. 'What's the matter?'

I don't think he expected me to react. After all he knows these moods of mine, he's seen them before. So my silence does not dishearten him.

The matrass shifts again as he slips under the duvet behind me. He moves in close so I can feel his chest against my back. With his hand he gently forces his way beneath the pillow I'm gripping tightly and starts to rub my chest. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, releasing the air in a sigh. I already feel a little better, less empty.

Phil has propped himself up on his left elbow. I can feel his weight pressing his arm into the matrass. With his left hand he lazily tugs at the curls I did not attempt to tame today.

Releasing the pillow from my clutch, I begin to roll onto my back. He slips away a bit to give me the space I need to move. Gazing up at him, I meet his serious look through heavy eyelids. His right hand still rests on my chest, no longer rubbing, but still comforting.

I shut my eyes once more while taking a deep breath. The weight of his hand on my breast is very welcome. Then I roll myself against his chest; nestling my head into his t-shirt. He complies and wraps his arms affirming around me. And so we lie, front to front, in comforting silence.

I can feel the sensation of emptiness weaken already. The urge to cry has left me. There is no need for words. Merely Phil's presence – being wrapped up in his arms, pressed tight against his chest – makes me so much better.

I breathe in his scent and let it wash through me. I imagine that with every inhale it fills the hollowness in my chest a little more. In fact it has already shrunken down, close to fading away. A sigh of light relief escapes my lips.

'Feeling better?' Phil asks quietly and I nod, my cheek rubbing against his shirt.

'You know, we can have a lazy day today; staying in and doing only what we're really up to. How would you like that?' he continues.

'Yes,' I reply softly. 'I'd like that very much.'

He lets silence engulf us again for a short moment, before trying, 'You want to get up yet?'

'No!' I say quickly and wrap my arm around his waist to keep him from moving.

'Aright then, let's stay a bit longer,' he agrees and I can hear the smile in his voice.

Burying my face in his shirt, I nestle even closer against his body. I want to prolong this embrace as much as possible, enjoy the reassurance of his warmth for as long as I can. The hollowness in my chest has faded, but I don't see why we shouldn't stay like this for another moment or two. Because in his arms everything is better. In his arms I am alright.

* * *

_Okay, no long speeches from me here. Just let me know what you think._

_And I will cuddle up in my bed now as I can finally sleep._

_(I should stop updating in the middle of the night though..)_

_- Sue_


	6. What needed to be said

_So yesterday this happened. I decided to take action myself and this is the result._

* * *

**What needed to be said**

When I tweeted that my eyes would be bleeding from editing my video all night, I wasn't exaggerating things. It was nearly 6 am and my eyeballs were burning like hell and my eyelids were heavy. And the stupid video still wasn't done!

In my head I have the same debate for the umpteenth time: I keep thinking that I just should shut off the computer and go to sleep, because I'm horribly tired. But then again it can't be too hard to finish editing and get this video done with. I've given up on the thought of uploading it a while ago. But I just want to save the file, have it complete.

I rub my eyes and try to focus on the screen again. Playing another part of video material where I messed up a little, I contemplate if I should put another cut. I am so sick of my voice by now. How do people even stand to listen to me? By now I find the recordings of me cringe worthy.

However, I am so close to finishing it. Only a few more little details I need to take care of, then I can export the file. I'm pretty sure I'm nearly there. I hope so.

But gosh, I am so exhausted!

With a sigh I lean back in my chair and close my eyes again, stretching my sore neck. Sometimes I really hate editing. I really had wanted the video to go up on the weekend – to be finally back on schedule – but here I am on a Wednesday morning and can't even think of uploading it yet.

As I open my eyes again, I notice a shape in the doorframe: Phil leans there in is pyjamas, watching me. I can't make out his face in the semi-darkness of the room – the computer screen is the only light source in the room.

'Hey,' I say, taking off my headphones.

Skipping the hello, he asks right away: 'Still editing?'

'Yeah,' I yawn and stretch out my arms. 'But I'm close to finishing it.'

'Dan, it's 6 am,' he notes, his voice wearily.

'I know,' I say, looking back at the screen, 'I'm nearly done.'

I can hear him sigh and then his steps on the floor as he walks over to me. He pulls the chair opposite of me around the corner of the table, so he can look at me. My eyes follow him, as he sits down.

'This is getting really worrying, Dan.' I meet Phil's stern eyes with a questioning look. 'You hardly slept – no, you haven't slept in the last few days! And this isn't the first time something like this happened and I find it really worrying!'

I'm caught in his eyes for a moment, but I shake my head, trying to laugh his concern off.

'Don't worry about me, I'm fine.'

'No, you're not.' His statement is simple, but it makes me stop and stare at him. He really means it. And I don't know what to think. I know my sleeping pattern isn't very healthy, but I'm managing. And it's not like it's going to turn into a regular habit. I just need to adjust to the radio show and the extra work it gives me. After about a year of YouTube being my only job I'm not quite used to taking the time into account that I have to invest for its preparation. But I'm sure I'll get there soon.

'Phil…,' I try, but he cuts me off by shaking his head.

'Seriously, Dan, I think you're overextending yourself at the moment and I wouldn't be a good friend if I just stood by and watched while you're wrecking yourself. I shouldn't be allowed to consider myself your partner if I just let that happen.'

'I'm not wrecking myself,' I disagree, but Phil gives me a look that means as much as: _Who are you trying to kid?_

'Really?' is all that he says and I swallow heavily. He honestly believes it and I find myself wondering if he's right. The more I think about, the more it seems to me that he has hit home. And that scares me. Have I been in denials until now on how much it affects me?

'It seems like once again you're trying to please everyone – your subscribers, our producers from the radio show,' he continues. 'I know how you always put much effort into things that are important to you, because you want them to be as good as possible – and there's nothing wrong with that. But don't do it at the expense of your own health and sanity!'

'Sanity is a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think,' I counter weakly.

'Is it?'

Well, that is the question. And I wish I could answer it with a simple no, things are not that easy.

I rub my eyes, contemplating Phil's words. I realise I can't shake them off like they were nothing. There is definitely some truth to them, even though I'm not willing to consider how much truth.

'So, what do you suggest I do?' I want to know, no longer denying his point, but also not actively admitting what he said is true.

'Reconsider your schedule. Maybe with the radio show the weekend no longer is a good time to upload your videos,' he offers. 'But first' – he leans towards me, resting his hand on mine – 'you get some rest.'

'Okay,' I nod obediently.

While I save the editing file of my video and shut down the computer, he keeps hold of my hand, gently pressing it. As soon as I've switched off the screen we both rise to our feet and he wraps one arm around my waist. I respond to his affection by leaning my head against his temple.

'Coming to my bed?' he asks softly. 'We'd have to snuggle up a bit as it's a single bed, but I don't remember you ever minding that.' He's stating the obvious, but I'm too tired to point that out. Actually, now that I'm away from the screen, I could fall asleep right away.

'Fine by me,' I mutter my agreement.

It's half past six when I nestle beneath Phil's duvet and rest my head on his chest. I've actually managed to take the time and brush my teeth, even though I'm so exhausted I could care less about oral hygiene right now.

He lays an arm around my back and presses his lips against my forehead.

'I love you, Phil,' I mumble as I start drifting off to sleep. If he answers, I don't register it anymore. But there's no need for that anyway. He has made quite clear in these early morning hours how much I mean to him.

* * *

_I thought about the chapter title a bit and found this one quite fitting._

_Also, I'd like to note I'm making good progress on this story. Just thought I'd note it here._

_And I'm always thankful and happy when I read the reviews or see the mail for another story follow or favourite. 3_

_- Sue_


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